The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real

persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Text copyright © 2013 Sheryl Leonard

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying,

recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

Published by Montlake

P.O. Box 400818

Las Vegas, NV 89140

ISBN-13: 9781612186870

ISBN-10: 1612186874

To the dedicated, hard-working, fun-loving postpartum staff of the Grey Nuns

Hospital. You are a dream team.

It has been my pleasure to work in the trenches with you for more than ten years. Not

only have you made coming to work a joy, you’ve supported me through the births of

three books.

Thanks are simply not enough.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

About the Author

Stephanie Hays straightened her uniform and made sure her name tag was right side

up. For the third time, she checked the contents of the tray in her hand: six

multidose vials of normal saline and a large handful of individually packaged insulin

syringes. Her task was simple—deliver this tray to Dr. Peter Granville, who was

lecturing his medical students on the other side of the closed door in front of her. As

long as she stayed upright and refrained from babbling, she would be fine.

Taking a deep breath, she flexed the handle in front of her and pushed open

the door, cringing when the force of her nervous strength sent it slamming against

the back wall. Way to go, Steph. You now have everyone’s full attention. Not exactly

what she had been going for.

She found herself standing at the rear of the classroom, looking at the backs

of Dr. Granville’s students. Actually, since they had all turned around to see what the

ruckus was about, she now faced various expressions ranging from benign surprise to

sniggering amusement. At the front of the room, glaring at her, stood Dr. Granville.

Behind him stood one of his residents, who had been erasing a blackboard filled with

diagrams and scribbled notes. At her noisy entrance he stopped, turned around, and

put the eraser down. A surprised grin broke out on his vaguely familiar face.

“Finally,” Dr. Granville said in his rich baritone. “We’ve been waiting at least

ten minutes for those props.”

The physician’s stormy countenance made Stephanie want to turn tail and

run, but that would have been cowardly. Unable to ignore the soft whispers and

open grins of the students on either side of her, she advanced down the aisle toward

Dr. Granville. With her heart pounding in her chest, she mumbled an incoherent

apology for the awkward entrance as she reached him.

Two things happened next, seemingly at the same time. Dr. Granville’s

assistant reached out to take her tray, and Stephanie stepped forward. Something—

a foot, a desk, her own feet—tripped her. As nervous as she was in the presence of

Dr. Granville, she could almost have predicted a mishap of some kind, but had hoped

that just once she’d be wrong. Helpless to retrieve that one fateful second of time,

Stephanie lost her grip on the tray. It flew into the air, along with its contents.

Thankfully, Dr. Granville instantly sized up the situation and stepped out of

harm’s way. The resident didn’t have a chance. The vials and syringes rained down all

over him. Before the last ping sounded, Stephanie was on her knees, scrambling to

collect her scattered treasures. The only positive in all this was that fortunately none

of the hard glass vials had shattered.

Dr. Granville’s assistant quickly lowered his considerable height to

Stephanie’s level and helped her gather the articles. Apart from the sounds they

made, there was complete silence in the room. No restless movements, no furtive

whispers, no quiet giggles; she knew the students were waiting for Dr. Granville’s

reaction.

Great first impression, she thought crossly. No, this was definitely not the

way she had wanted to attract the attention of the chief of medicine.

Over the last two years she had pictured various scenarios in which Dr.

Granville noticed her, but never this particular one. She should have known, with her

tendency to stumble, that this was the way it would happen. He would now forever

remember her as clumsy, not the efficient, professional nurse she was—99 percent

of the time, anyway.

Someone coughed; probably, she thought, to cover up a guffaw, but it

brought her attention back to the task of retrieving whatever was left of her dignity.

It was tempting to stay down at foot level rather than stand up and face Dr.

Granville.

The resident handed her a syringe and, at that moment, she realized she had

not given him one thought. Hard glass vials flying at a person could inflict damage if

they hit him in the face. He might be bleeding from a lacerated forehead. She raised

her face to take a look.

“I’m so sorry,” she began, but faltered. His warm smile poured over her like

soothing oil. Her response to it was instinctive: Stephanie smiled back. As his gaze

lengthened, the thought popped into her mind that those baby blues of his could

lure impressionable females to him like ants to a picnic. They constituted no danger

to her, of course, because Dr. Granville held her heart completely.

“I’m just glad there was no scalpel,” he said cheerfully, breaking the

connection first.

Placing the last vial on the tray, he winked at her and stood up. He offered

her his hand, and although it looked like a strong hand, she ignored it. Instead she

rose to her feet, grasped the tray in both hands, and placed it on the counter beside

Dr. Granville.

“Sorry for disrupting your class, Dr. Granville,” she said as professionally as

she could. “Is there anything else you need at this time?” Would he remember her

from their first long-ago encounter?

His unblinking stare, with no hint of recognition, drained her of her last

vestige of courage. She turned to leave.

“One moment, please, nurse,” he said in a commanding voice that stopped

her cold. She turned back, unconsciously jutting out her chin. From experience, she

could tell that embarrassment had turned her face an ugly, blotchy red.

Dr. Granville stared at her name tag. “Shirley,” he read incorrectly. She was

not sure whether that was intentional, to further put her in her place, or simply poor

vision, something she could empathize with. She decided to give him the benefit of

the doubt.

To her surprise, the resident corrected him. “It’s Stephanie,” he said clearly,

receiving a sharp look for that impertinence.

Dr. Granville turned his attention back to her. His stare made her feel like a

butterfly on a stickpin. “Apparently you have not yet been informed that nobody

throws things around here but me. Is that clear, Miss…Stephanie?” He spoke with

the authority his position gave him.

She quavered, she gulped, but she met his regard without flinching. To her

surprise, she saw amusement there. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Despite

his fierce, bushy brows, he seemed more amused than offended. She relaxed. In fact,

with his powerful gaze directed at her, Stephanie felt like she had stepped into the

sun itself. Enclosed in its brilliance, she could barely rein in the pure joy that flooded

her heart. Beaming, she said, “Yes, Dr. Granville. I’ll remember that.”

A grin softened his chiseled features, making him appear much younger than

his forty-two years, and for several moments she basked in his smile, helpless. But as

the noise of the restless students brought her back to reality, she realized she was

about to babble like a starstruck teenager facing her latest idol. It was time to get out

of Dodge before her tongue did even worse damage than her klutziness. She turned

toward the door, plotted a course free of obstacles, and managed to escape without

further incident.

Once out of the classroom, Stephanie made a beeline for the staff

washroom, needing a moment to compose herself. Checking the mirror confirmed

her worst fears. Her face and neck were a fiery red from the incident—the curse of a

pale complexion. Quickly, she dabbed cold water over the redness, but she knew

only time would reduce the color. Time, and not doing anything so embarrassing

ever again. If only, she thought wistfully.

Despite this morning’s incident with Dr. Granville, Stephanie loved being a nurse. For

her, it was more than a job; it was a calling. Although at times frustrated by too little

staff and the one or two constant complainers on board, being a nurse satisfied her

in a fundamental way she couldn’t put into words. She felt part of a team, part of

something bigger than the sum of its parts. If it took a village to raise a child, then it

took a medical center like the Queen Victoria Hospital to care for a sick person.

An hour after the fiasco in the classroom, and shortly before the noon trays

arrived, Stephanie saw Annie Booker’s bell light up and went to her immediately. As

soon as she opened the ten-year-old’s door, a plaintive voice said, “Is that you,

Stephie?”

“Yes, dear. What can I do for you? Are you in pain?” The frail little girl had

been admitted several weeks ago with crippling joint pain that, so far, had been

unresponsive to the usual treatments. She seemed lost in her blankets.

“Not really. I just want to go for a ride. Please? I’m tired of lying in bed.” Her

voice was no more than a husky whisper. “When is Mommy coming?”

Stephanie lifted Annie into her child-sized wheelchair, made sure she was

securely buckled in, and pushed her out of her room and into the corridor. She

reminded the child that her mother was at work and would come, as she always did,

at lunchtime. LaVonne Booker spent every one of her lunch breaks with Annie and

came to tuck her daughter in at night after work whenever she wasn’t working her

second job.

The excitement of a wheelchair ride put Annie back in her usual good spirits.

She greeted passing staff members by name if she recognized them, wanted to know

about the newcomers, and chatted happily with anyone who had a few minutes to

spare for her. Having spent so much time in the hospital, she knew every nook and

cranny of the ward. Anything new evoked exclamations, questions, and required

close examination. Unfortunately, because the unit was not geared specifically to

children, there were no other children to play with, and there was no play area, but

Annie had collected lots of board games, puzzles, and coloring books from staff and

volunteers who felt sorry for the child. When no one could play a game with her,

Annie managed to amuse herself for hours on end.

After a slow turn around the unit, they returned to her room. The child lifted

her arms to be picked up, and Stephanie obliged without hesitation, struck by the

thin body in her arms. Clutching tightly to the nurse, Annie whispered, “I love you,

Stephie. You smell just like Mommy.” Stephanie hugged the little girl as closely as she

could, mindful of her fragile joints.

“I love you, too,” she said, with watery eyes. “Very much.” Laying the little

girl gently on her bed, Stephanie dropped a quick kiss on the small forehead and

smiled. “I think you’re just in time for your favorite show before lunch.” She handed

the child the remote control for her TV. “I’ll be back soon, munchkin.”

Waving good-bye, Stephanie left Annie flipping channels and went to take

care of her other patients.

By the following morning, Stephanie had decided to preserve the brief moment of

joy she had felt under Dr. Granville’s gaze in the classroom and put the rest of the

disastrous event behind her. She had certainly had enough practice at the latter

through the years. Known in her family as The Clumsy One, she had endured teasing

and torment since grade school over her propensity for trips, stumbles, and falls. It

was nothing short of a miracle—or so her twin brother, Richard, kept reminding

her—that she had managed to get through nurse’s training.

Over time, Stephanie had discovered that her rate of mishaps was directly

proportional to her level of anxiety, and she had worked hard on relaxation

techniques to keep stressful situations from escalating into mini disasters like

yesterday’s fiasco in the classroom. Standing face-to-face with Dr. Granville for the

second time in her life had sent her anxiety levels soaring. Even deep breathing

couldn’t have saved her.

Her first encounter with Dr. Granville was a different matter entirely. During

a class in her third year of nursing school, he had quite literally swept her off her

feet. After one of his guest lectures on malignant metabolic conditions, she had

stood up too quickly and fainted—the results of lack of sleep and breakfast. She

came to in his arms and was hopelessly lost in the eyes of liquid gold that gazed

down at her. His deep voice reverberated through her whole being. “Get this girl

some food and send her to bed,” he barked at her nursing instructor. Stephanie’s

reaction was immediate and intense—this was a man she could trust with her life,

with her heart. From then on, no other man had warranted a second glance.

Since that day two years ago, Stephanie had followed Dr. Granville’s

meteoric rise to his present position as chief of medicine. She dreamed of working

with him and as soon as a job opened up on his unit, Nine Medical, she was first in

line. She had worked there for three months now and had become quite

comfortable. Still, only the head nurse, Grace Babcock—who preferred to be called

Mrs. B.—and the more seasoned nurses dealt with the doctors. Apart from Dr.

Granville, the other medical personnel were just a blur of faces to Stephanie.

Yesterday had been her first real contact with Dr. Granville since her long-

ago fainting spell. Today held the promise of another encounter.

After a quick shower and bite to eat, Stephanie headed to the hospital, her

enthusiasm once again restored.

At 7:55 a.m. she and the other day-shift nurses filed out of the report room.

Across the corridor, she observed Dr. Granville at morning rounds. As she watched

him interacting with his group of physicians and students, she sighed softly. An

involuntary smile spread across her face.

“Well, don’t you just look like the cat that swallowed the tasty canary,” said

someone, coming up beside her. “You must be checking out the husband material

over yonder.”

Stephanie jerked around. “Barb, you startled me,” she said to the nurse who

had joined her.

“So, who’ve you got your eye on?”

Stephanie’s gaze wandered back to Dr. Granville, then scanned the group.

“Right now, I’m watching those two students talking and whispering behind Dr.

Granville’s back.”

“Good choice.” Barb gave her a sharp glance. “But Russ is taken.”

“Don’t worry; I’m not interested in either of them that way. It’s just that

they’re acting like high school brats when they should be paying attention to every

word he speaks.”

Barb gave Stephanie a sideways glance, her expression a mixture of surprise,

pity, and disgust. “Trust me,” she said. “No one believes that more than the Great

Granville himself. But those ‘students’ you’re referring to are Russ Lovitt and Luke

Carter, third- and fourth-year residents. Russ happens to be my boyfriend-to-be—”

“Boyfriend-to-be?” Stephanie smiled. “That’s cute.” She took another look at

Russ.

“He is, isn’t he?” Barb’s face glowed.

“But that’s beside the point,” Stephanie persisted. “Neither your Russ nor

that cocky fellow next to him seems to appreciate the privilege of sitting under Dr.

Granville’s tutelage. I mean, the man is nothing less than the Wayne Gretzky of

medicine and we’re fortunate to have him. Those doctors should count themselves

lucky—”

“Whoa, Nelly,” chuckled Barb.

Stephanie couldn’t help her answering grin. “Sorry. I get a little carried away

about Dr. Granville.”

“True. And to me it’s totally inexplicable,” Barb said. “What surprises me

more is that you’ve heard of Wayne Gretzky.” She raised her eyebrows. “I have to

say that comparing the Great Granville to a hockey player, well, that’s way out

there.”

“Credit my brother for the hockey reference.” Stephanie shrugged. “They’re

both great in their own fields, in their own generations, that’s all I meant.”

Still smiling, Barb added, “I know what you meant. And seriously, I do agree

with you that there won’t be another Great One for many years to come.” She

stopped talking and her eyes widened. “Oh, now I get it. Gretzky, the Great One—the

Great Granville. Very clever. You made a play on words.”

“Hmm, so I did,” Stephanie said dryly. “By the way, who did you say that

dark-haired one next to Russ was? I’ve seen him around but can never remember his

name.” It was the blackboard eraser of the day before. The one who thought he had

a way with women.

Barb’s jaw dropped open, and her eyebrows shot up. “You can’t remember

the name of the most eligible bachelor in a fifty-mile radius? Not to mention our

senior resident and soon-to-be internal medicine specialist Luke Carter? If you took

off those Granvillecolored glasses once in a while, you might notice that the women

on staff would love to…well, how can I say this delicately?” She paused, as if giving it

some thought. “I can’t. You figure it out.”

Chuckling, Stephanie said, “I might describe them as ants at a picnic.” She

recalled the impression Luke Carter had made on her the day before.

“More like a banquet,” Barb declared with feeling. “And sadly, while the rest

of the ants are smart enough to go for the best item on the menu, you aim for the

dried-up old crust of bread.”

“Great analogy, Miss Kaplan,” Stephanie said, wishing, and not for the first

time, that she hadn’t blabbed so freely to her friend when they’d first met. Somehow

Barb had drawn out every detail of Stephanie’s crush on Dr. Granville within milli-

minutes. Not only that, ever since then, the girl had made it her goal to find

Stephanie a suitable boyfriend to replace the UDG—Barb-speak for Unattainable Dr.

Granville.

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